Murphy's Law
by Azara-Rayne18
Summary: Derek Morgan does not trust happiness. So when Spencer Reid finally becomes his, he knows something bad is coming. He just doesn't know how bad until he hears the news; Carl Buford is out, and wants revenge. Slash, rape. Sequel to "He Could Have Said No".
1. Chapter 1

Derek Morgan did not trust happiness.

It probably had something to do with the fact that every happy event in his life ended with tragedy. His darling baby sister, Desiree, had only been alive for three hours before his favorite aunt succumbed to cancer. Derek's father had just promised that he would take him to his first major league baseball game for his upcoming birthday; Derek had still been bouncing in excitement when the punk that killed his father pulled out the gun.

Less than two hours after Derek won his first football game, Carl Buford was raping him in the communal showers.

So when Derek woke up the morning after the best night of his life to Spencer Reid, warm and smiling with the scent of bacon wafting in from the kitchen and draping his new boyfriend – boyfriend! – like a robe, Derek was instantly on alert.

Especially when he realized that the scent of bacon was the only thing Reid was wearing.

He was waiting for it all morning, scanning the newspaper with rabid intensity for a tragic headline; calling his mama and both his sisters to make sure they were alright. Driving to work had been completely nerve-wracking; Derek nearly jerked the car into the next lane when the teenager driving the silver Honda next to him began drifting into his path.

"Ummm, Morgan? Is everything alright?" Spencer asked hesitantly. Morgan took only a second to glance at Reid, soft and warm and adorable in the passenger seat before glaring at the hot pink VW Bug beside them. The driver was animatedly chatting on her cell phone. Knowing his luck, she'd cause a crash and hurt someone.

It took him a long moment to realize he hadn't answered Spencer's question. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine, Baby Boy. Better than fine." Which is why I have to make sure no one kills you today. The thought sounded crazy, even in his head.

"O-okay," Spencer dropped his eyes down to his lap, where his thin hands were twisting anxiously. "Derek?"

"Yes, Spencer?" Derek smiled around Spencer's name.

"You still meant what you said last night, right? About wanting me to move in with you?"

Derek waited until his car was in its customary parking spot to answer, turning to look Spencer in those beautiful brown eyes, "Spencer, I mean that more than I've ever meant anything in my life."

The smile that broke over Spencer's face was nothing short of adorable. "Good."

"You never answered me, you know," Derek pointed out, putting his fingers in his lap and twisting them together solemnly. He pouted slightly, trying not to grin.

"I was kind of distracted," Spencer blushed.

"Oh, really?" Derek feigned surprise. "I wonder why? Anyway, I think it's about time you answered my question. Wouldn't want me to think your affections for me are gone, now would you?" An errant voice in his head told him that this would be the opportune time for Spencer to break up with him, but he pushed it away. No errant voices while Derek was in the love zone.

"I wouldn't want you to think that at all. Especially since my answer is…" Spencer leaned forward, waiting until their lips were only a fraction of an inch apart, "Yes," He whispered, before pressing them together.

Derek grinned, loving how he brought out Spencer's dramatic side. They probably would have been late for work if Prentiss hadn't tapped on their window on her way in. Derek watched her back as she laughed, walking away from them.

"Have a good morning, boys?" Prentiss asked coyly as Derek walked into the bullpen, Reid trailing behind him, still straightening his shirt and tie.

"Had the best morning of my entire life," Derek answered, meeting Spencer's eyes as he walked into the break room for his third cup of coffee.

Derek knew it was his third because he counted. This morning. After Spencer had woken him up with breakfast in bed and sex before work. That's right. "We have any knew cases?" Derek asked, ignoring the still gloating voice in the back of his head.

"Nope, unless you know something I don't," Prentiss said, "Maybe the unsubs have decided we deserve a day off for all our… hard work." She waggled her eyebrows and Derek laughed, ignoring the knot in his gut. There could still be a catch, he reminded himself, something to take all of this away.

Spencer had just walked out of the break room, clutching a cup of coffee in his hand and humming happily as he took his next sip, when Hotch appeared on the landing. It only took one look at Hotch's stern eyes on him, and Derek knew.

Here comes the catch.

Derek was walking towards the staircase even before Hotch's soft, firm, "Morgan? Can I speak with you in my office for a moment?" He tried to avoid Spencer's concerned, questioning look as he made his way to Hotch's office. It couldn't be a reprimand; he had gotten his relationship with Reid cleared weeks ago, and thanks to the little genius waking him up every morning, had been on time to work every day this week. He'd seen Garcia on his way in; nothing had happened to her. Maybe something had happened to his mom or Sarah or Desi? No, he'd called them this morning, and even if he hadn't, there's no way Hotch would know before he did.

"Please, sit," Hotch said, before he even closed the door. It was bad, then. Hotch wouldn't ask him to sit unless it was bad.

"What's the matter, Hotch?" Morgan asked, willing the tremor out of his voice. Rossi was in the room, too, staring at him with unfathomable eyes.

Hotch stared at him, his normal dark expression tinged with pity. "I don't know how to say this, Derek..."

Derek. Oh, no. "Just tell me, Hotch." Something happened to Gideon or Elle. The bureau is letting me go. Strauss is pulling official permission for Spencer and I to be together….

Hotch sighed, a sound that tore at Derek's heart like nothing else. Then he said it. The last thing Derek expected to hear.

"I just received a call from the Illinois Department of Corrections. Carl Buford escaped last night."


	2. Nothing at All

The rest of that day was something of a blur. Hotch gave him the day off to recover from the news. Derek didn't even thank him, simply turning and walking out of the room, down the stairs and to the car, ignoring Spencer's worried, questioning look as he walked down to the elevator. He couldn't face Reid right now; he was sure that if he saw Spencer's face at that moment he would burst into tears, and that was the last thing he wanted.

He could practically hear the whispers following him out the door.

He remembered the whispers. In high school they followed him everywhere, boys whispering about what he'd done to become Buford's star player despite being the youngest boy on the team. The rumors were cruel, but Derek would have preferred any of them to the reality.

The rumors of Buford's escape were far more solid, but they did little to curb the sick feeling in Derek's gut. Buford had talked a prison guard into giving him the key to his cell, the man who ruined Derek's life had strolled out the door while the young prison guard he'd charmed into helping him looked the other way. He'd stolen a car and driven away from Chicago; the last recorded sighting of the man had him going towards Springfield. The PD was putting guards on his mom and sisters, wanting to make sure Carl didn't try to attack Derek's family. At least there was that.

Derek curled into a ball on his couch, trying to ignore the curling panic in his gut. He couldn't do this. This was the one thing he could not do. Knowing Carl was out there, the world suddenly felt like a much scarier, less secure place. And to think that just this morning he had been so happy…

Derek closed his eyes and fell headlong into a dream…

_"Mr. Buford, can I ask you something?"_

_Carl's dark face lifted and cracked, splintering into pieces under the weight of a false smile, "Of course, Derek. Come on in and close the door."_

_16-year-old Derek Morgan teetered on the edge of the doorway. Fear and dread curled up in his gut, replacing the warm, solid satisfaction of a game well played. The worn football uniform hung loose around his shoulder, the cold air of Carl's office whistling through an old rip around his knee, only proving what Lee Garret had told him earlier; 'Come on, Derek, you know old man Buford will give us new uniforms if you ask him. You could be, like, our advocate or something. I don't know how you do it, but you've got Carl right in the palm of your hand.'_

_If only Lee knew._

_Derek finally obeyed, frightened by the raise of one of Carl's eyebrows. The door slid shut with a sound that echoed in Derek's ears. Derek took the seat in the old wicker chair Buford set on the other side of his desk. The air smelled like Carl, a smell Derek knew far too well; sweat and the classy but cheap brand of cologne a philanthropist should wear. There was another smell underneath it, a cloying musk that Derek refused to name, even in the privacy of his own mind. He felt nauseous._

_"You wanted to ask me something?" Carl prompted his brown eyes warm and concerned._

_"Y-yeah," Derek swallowed, "I-I was wondering… I m-mean we we-were wondering…. If you could maybe…"_

_"Spit it out, son." The cracks around Carl's eyes split deeper as his smile widened. His eyes were so concerned, but Derek knew him too well to be fooled. The musk of arousal was getting stronger. Derek could feel tears prickling at his eyes. "My goodness, boy, you look like you're about to fall over. Don't be so scared, now. Just tell me what you want."_

_"W-we – new football uniforms. The team and I were hoping we could get new football uniforms."_

_Carl leaned backwards, scooting his chair around to Derek's side of the table. A heavy hand came down on Derek's knee, stroking in a way that was just too familiar to be fatherly. Derek wanted his father so badly right now._

_"I could probably arrange that," The hand started moving up Derek's leg. Slowly, almost like it wasn't happening at all. The smell got thicker. "But new uniforms aren't cheap, Derek. You can't get anything for free you know."_

_Derek knew._

_"The boys really want it," Derek said. Carl's hand was nearing the top of his thigh and it was starting to feel good. Derek didn't want it to feel good. He wanted to run away. But he couldn't do that. His family was relying on him to get out of here. To go to college and make something of himself. To make money. Because you couldn't get anything for free. Nothing at all.  
_

_There was a small statue on Buford's desk. A tiny gold football player. Derek focused on it as Carl squeezed the very top of his thigh and kept moving, leaning forward to whisper in his ear._

_"Are you willing to pay the price, Derek?"_

_Derek nodded, hating himself for it._

_"Yes."_

"NO!"

Derek shot awake, panting. Carl was going to…. Someone had to do something, Carl was planning on… Derek sobbed, willing his breathing to slow down. There was a tightness in his pants that made Derek want to throw up, the scent of sweat and arousal tainting the air.

It wasn't until the pounding in his ears lessened that Derek could hear the frantic knocking on the door. Derek got off of his couch, taking deep breaths as he neared the doorway.

"Derek? Derek, are you okay?" Spencer's voice, though panicked, acted like a sedative, calming Derek's nerves like nothing else could. It was one of the reasons Derek couldn't live without him. Derek threw the door open and pulled Spencer into his arms. Spencer didn't fight the sudden crushing arms around him, relaxing into Derek's embrace. "I came to check on you, I saw how upset you were at work today. What happened?"

"Nothing," Derek whispered, clinging to Spencer for dear life. "Nothing at all."


	3. Broken Hearts and Broken Plans

"Okay, what happened?"

Reid was standing in Derek's living room. His lips were pursed, soft brown hair falling over his forehead. Every so often one pale cheek dipped in as Spencer bit into it. Derek had the most beautiful boyfriend in the world. "I told you it was nothing. Just a bad dream."

Spencer's large eyes narrowed and Derek remembered; he also had the smartest boyfriend in the world.

"I've never heard you scared like that. What was it about?"

Derek looked down at his own fingers, twirling around each other, darker than the denim of his jeans, "You know what it was about."

Spencer froze, opened his mouth and closed it again. He bit his lip and sunk down beside Morgan. A pale hand slipped into Derek's line of sight, white fingers wrapping around his own. "I hoped it wasn't that."

"It was."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Derek shrugged, "Nothing to talk about." Nothing they hadn't talked about before. Spencer's bottom lip slid out slowly, he chewed carefully on it, barely noticing what he was doing. Tugging on his boyfriend's heartstrings in a way no one else could. "It was just a memory. Something he did to me when I was a kid. You woke me up before it got that bad."

Spencer leaned in close, rubbing his smooth, soft nose against Morgan's neck. "What caused it?"

"Hmmm?" The smell of Spencer's hair was distracting him.

"You only have those dreams when you're stressed about something. Was it what Hotch told you earlier today?"

"Yeah."

"... What did Hotch say?"

_That the man who destroyed my childhood is free to come after everyone I love._

"Nothing important." Derek could tell that Spencer didn't believe him, "Nothing I want to worry you with, pretty boy."

Spencer sighed out roughly, "You don't have to treat me like a child."

"Please, let's not fight," Derek whispered, and the vulnerability that leaked through his words was almost painful. He couldn't take a fight today. He moved closer, fingers resting against Spencer's collar bone, and he didn't even need to pull his boyfriend in because Spencer Reid was kissing him. Spencer, the delicate, vulnerable, beautiful, sexy, intelligent man that Derek had been dreaming about for so many years and...

... No...

He'd been involved in the Buford case.

"Just think," Spencer said as he pulled away, "In a few days, I'll be able to wake you up the moment they start. I'll be able to protect you for a change."

Spencer couldn't protect him. Spencer could barely protect himself.

Derek's mind spun, going over every moment he'd spent with Spencer in Chicago. The stolen glances, lingering touches. How many of them were in front of Carl? Buford didn't understand love; a sociopath like that monster was incapable of it, but he would have seen the longing in Derek's eyes. He would be sure to see it if he came to Quantico and saw them together. Spencer was the only other person Buford could hurt, really hurt...

"You can't," Derek said.

Spencer's eyes widened; he pulled away from his boyfriend, his lips red and chest heaving and expression so painfully confused. "What?"

"That was what Hotch's conference was about. We can't move in together." The abuse had done one thing for Derek. It had made him an excellent liar.

"What?" Spencer said. His eyes darted rapidly from side to side, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "W-why would he do that?"

"It wouldn't be appropriate, Spencer, you know that..."

"Bullshit!" Spence said, his voice breaking on the last syllable, "Why would Hotch do this to us? He knows how hard we've worked to be together, our relationship is official with the BAU. Where I live is none of his business!" Spencer's breaths were hitching off into angry sobs. That was always a bad sign. "...I'm calling him."

Spencer stormed toward his messenger bag, Derek rushing behind him, "Spencer, don't-"

"I'm calling him out on this. Blatant homophobia, that's what this is..."

"He's our boss! You want to get us fired?"

"I don't care! I love you, Derek. I don't care what Hotch or anyone else says about it. I'll quit, I'll take on the whole BAU, but I want to live with you-"

"I don't."

Spencer froze, Derek's hand catching around the wrist holding his phone. Hotch's number was half-way dialed, Derek grabbed it and snapped it shut.

"What?"

"I changed my mind. After the meeting today, I realized that it would be too risky for us to be living together. I don't want to fight this, Spence. I feel like it's..." Derek took a deep breath, trying to gather strength to break Spencer's heart, and his own in the process. "I feel like it's better if we don't live together."

"Oh."

Watching the fight drain out of his boyfriend nearly killed him. Spencer always gave warning when he was about to cry; the slight twitch in his cheek and the way his eyes glassed over.

"I still want to be with you, Spencer," Derek whispered, coming close. Spencer looked away, not meeting his eyes. "Hey, don't shut me out here. I love you. Nothing's ever going to change that. Hey, Spencer. I love you."

"I know." Spencer shook himself away from the pain, "I know that, I just thought... I'm so stupid." He barely whispered the last part, grabbing his phone from Derek and shoving it into his bag, then bustling into the living room to grab his coat. Derek watched him from the doorway, trying and failing to think of words that would make everything okay, would stop the insults he knew Spencer was screaming at himself in his head.

"I love you."

"I love you, too." Spencer said, "And I'm sorry if I was pushy. You know, about moving in. It's just... I really love you. And I couldn't believe that you'd actually... I'm sorry. I'm going to go back to my apartment now. I have to catch my landlord before he sells my lease to someone else."

Spencer leaned in to brush his lips across Derek's cheek. He ran outside and too his car. Spencer sat inside it without starting the engine for forty five minutes, while Derek beat himself up in his apartment. Derek analyzed every word, trying and failing to think of a way that could have possibly been any worse. He finally ran downstairs, reaching the parking garage just as Spencer turned the keys in the ignition.

He'd been crying.

Derek hated himself, hated himself more when he opened the driver's side door and Spencer let out this tiny, startled sniff. Like he was surprised Derek would bother coming for him.

"Listen," Derek said, "I hate this. I hate hurting you. And I don't feel right asking this but... I can't be without you tonight. How about we go back to your apartment, cuddle up on the couch with some of my cooking, make love, and then fall asleep with me whispering sweet nothings in those beautiful ears of yours. Hmmm?" He brushed a thumb against Spencer's cheek, just to see the small smile on his heartbroken boyfriend's face. "How's that sound, love?"

Spencer silently shifted over to the passenger seat. "You can drive."

Derek took the driver's seat, "Nothing's gonna change. I promise, pretty boy. I'm still gonna be your boyfriend, I'm still in love with you. Nothing's gonna keep me from loving you."

Spencer nodded silently, and Derek started for Spencer's apartment. It was the only safe place for them.

For now, it would have to be enough.


	4. What We Say and What We Think

Morgan woke the next morning with all the warm heaviness of a man who had been thoroughly laid. He sat up and nearly bumped his head on an overhead shelf. Spencer's bedroom was tiny, the paint peeling off the walls in certain places and graying in others. The door was half open, revealing a tiny hall with three tiny rooms for Spencer to bathe in, eat in and read in – since that was pretty much all he did in his living room.

It was a dingy, airless place. Morgan could see why Spencer was so excited to leave it.

Derek's boyfriend always woke up before he did, and Spencer appeared in the doorway a moment later. "Hey, I took a shower. The hot water's going to be gone for about an hour, so we should probably eat breakfast before you get in, okay?"

"Yeah," Derek said. Spencer didn't meet his eyes. "You okay, pretty boy?"

"I'm fine," Reid said, but his voice was higher than usual, and his gaze shifted to the side. Lying. Derek grunted in displeasure, "Look, I'm really fine. I'm just a little…"

"Disappointed?"

"Yeah."

Derek sighed, "It isn't your fault, Spencer."

"I know that logically," Spencer said, "But it's just… I don't get it. I mean, two days ago you ask me to move in with you. I know you, Derek. You think about decisions like that from every angle. You just wouldn't change your mind unless... something big happened."

"It's nothing."

"I'm going to figure it out."

"Okay, okay." But Derek was smiling. He knew that Spencer would try, and he loved that about his boyfriend. Spencer's stubbornness was one of Derek's favorite things about him. "Look, there's something I have to take care of. It doesn't have anything to do with you, and I don't want it to, but until it's resolved, I can't risk you being too close to me."

Spencer nodded, a small grin in the corner of his mouth. "That's too bad."

"What? What's the matter, baby boy?"

"Well," Spencer said, "You see, I was kind of hoping that we'd be getting really close this morning."

"Yeah?" Derek beamed. The sex seemed to have cheered Spencer up; it certainly helped Derek feel better. There was something about being with Spencer. About being with a person who was an equal, who relied on him, who tried to protect him. "Well, I guess I can provide that."

He walked over to Spencer and pulled the boy into his arms. Their lips met, Spencer moaning a little when Derek moved to deepen the kiss. Derek walked backward until his knees hit the edge of the bed. He laid back, pulling Spencer on top of him. His boyfriend's wet hair caressed the side of his face.

It was then that their phones rang.

Spencer reached his first, "Hotch." His voice was cold. "Yeah….. Yeah. No, I can let him know. I'm with Morgan now. Because I'm dating him, Hotch, I'm still allowed to date him, aren't I? ... Okay. Okay, we'll be in the office in about twenty minutes." Spencer snapped his phone shut, "We have to go in."

They drove to the office together, their go bags in the back seat. Spencer was smiling, the early morning sunrise lighting up the side of his face. His honey brown eyes were warm, pink lips drawn up in a smile. Derek jokes and flirted, trying to keep the smile on his boy's face. They walked in together, the backs of their hands touching each other. Derek flirted with the idea of intertwining their fingers, but he couldn't afford that level of intimacy in public. So he shifted his go bag to the other hand as they walked up to their office.

"Morgan."

Hotch called his name the second he and Spencer walked into the bullpen. Spencer tensed, but didn't say anything. Derek followed Hotch silently into his office, letting Reid walk to the conference room without him.

"What's going on, Hotch?" Morgan asked.

"He's in Quantico," Hotch said, "He dumped his car just outside the city."

Derek took a deep breath. His heart clenched tight, but his face stayed blank. "What does that matter? We're going to be out of town on a case; that's why you called Spencer and I in, right?" Derek barely noticed the way his fists clenched and unclenched, but he noticed when Hotch's eyes darted down to them.

"True," Hotch said, "But we'll be back in a few days. I need you to promise me that you won't do something foolish?"

"Foolish?"

"Yes, foolish. Like trying to track down Buford by yourself."

Morgan's jaw tightened. "Why would I do that?"

"We both know how he operates, Morgan," Hotch said. His dark brown eyes burned into Morgan's. "He makes sure that there's a lot to lose." Hotch tilted his head towards the conference room. "I know how much you care about him, Morgan. Buford might try to manipulate that to get under your skin."

"He isn't going to lay a finger on Reid," Morgan said fiercely. Hotch's eyebrows rose. "Look, I know how he operates even better than you do. He never saw Spencer and I together."

"You were in love with him at the time," Hotch said, "It wasn't hard to see that."

"The locals will probably have him on an armored car back to Chicago before we get back," Morgan said, "But even if they don't, I can protect my own."

"I know," Hotch said, "That's what I'm worried about."

"You don't have to be worried," Morgan said, "Look, I'm not gonna lie. I'm pissed that he's out, I'm pissed that he's still in my life. I'm pissed that I can't move in with my own boyfriend because of him. But I'm not going to be stupid. That's what he wants."

Hotch nodded without a smile, "That's good. Alright, then, time to go out to briefing. Oh, and by the way… Is Reid mad at me? He seemed upset on the phone."

"He's fine," Morgan said, "I'm just happy to be getting him out of the city. Buford's not going to touch him."

"But if he does…"

"I'm going to let the police do their job," Morgan said.

_I'll kill him with my bare hands,_ Morgan thought.


End file.
